Five Times
by mysongsknowwhatudidinthelight
Summary: Based off an old prompt that went on AO3 for a while, but with a new twist: Teen!Lock. Sherlock and John are in high school and the idiots around them seem to need their help for everything, but nothing good. Johnlock, there'll be swearing and some adult-ish themes later on.


**A/N: Hi everyone! This is my new story just to keep y'all sated until I can get some legitimate work done. This is for the "five times" prompt going around a long time ago, but I decided to make it teen!lock to spice it up a bit. Hope you enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the BBC nor original version of Sherlock. Only in my dreams. (I also don't own Bioshock.)**

* * *

The last bell rang and school was over, finally. John closed his locker and sighed, slinging his backpack over his shoulder before walking over to Sherlock, who was leaning on the windows at the end of the hall. John looked him over, making sure Sherlock _had_ his backpack, before nodding and walking towards the stairs. Sherlock fell into step next to him.

"So, want to come over today? I just got the new Bioshock, we can start it together. I can even order Chinese," John suggested, a small hint of hopefulness in his voice.

Sherlock sighed, rolling his eyes before he responded. "Can't, sorry. I have to go to this party Gabe's throwing, Ruby thinks he's cheating on her and paid me to find out." John raised his eyebrows, impressed. He knew Sherlock was popular for solving the students' problems- lost cats, sullen couples, even once a girl who cut off her friend's hair; but to have Ruby Taylor, the head cheerleader, asking him for help? He must have been getting a lot more attention than either of them realized.

"How much is she paying you?" John asked as they left the school, turning towards the buses.

"Fifty if he's not cheating, sixty if he is and I can prove it." Sherlock sounded bitter, and John was slightly comforted to realize how bored his friend must get from these mundane cases and students. "I might need backup," he continued. "Want to come? It's at seven."

John looked up in surprise. "S-sure," he answered after a few seconds. Sherlock nodded, and they got on their bus, continuing the conversation with video games and complaints of homework over the weekend.

* * *

"Sherlock, I am _really_ starting to regret this," John hissed as they navigated the dance floor (fashioned from Gabe's living room), pulsing bodies and spilled drinks blocking their path. "Where are we even going?"

Sherlock took John's wrist, pulling him along so they wouldn't get separated. "He's in the basement with a small group. I know Mike's there, he's helping me too. But we need to act natural and play along with whatever stupid thing they're doing. Understand?"

John nodded, barely paying attention to his words. The found the door to the basement and went down it, following the sounds of laughter to about ten people sitting in a circle around an empty beer bottle. John saw Gabe and Mike, as well as some other kids he knew, but not Ruby. He drew his eyebrows close but didn't say anything as he and Sherlock stood before them.

"Sherlock! John! Glad you could make it, I was just telling Gabe here that you two might turn up." Mike jumped up from the circle, slapping both boys on the back and gesturing for the group to expand, which they did to some muttered complaints. John nodded at Gabe and some others before he sat next to Sherlock. He noticed again the bottle, pointed towards a blushing girl (Amy? Molly?) who was smiling at a boy named Sam, equally red-faced.

"Oh, no," he muttered to Sherlock.

"I know," Sherlock replied quietly before raising his voice to Gabe. "Where's Ruby? I thought she'd be here tonight."

"Nah, she got sick. Girl stuff, I think," Gabe said with a half-hearted shrug. He clapped his hands together and rubbed them. "Okay, let's keep going! Sam just went, so now it is... Ah, Lily." Gabe smiled.

Lily nodded, taking the bottle and spinning it. It didn't work very well on the carpeting, but the bottle managed to spin a few times before landing on the boy next to her. Everyone laughed and he leaned towards her without hesitation, kissing her deeply.

"Jim, he and Lily are dating. Boring." Sherlock murmured in John's ear. The couple broke apart and she leaned her head on his shoulder, looking content.

"I just really hope no one picks me," John replied sullenly. Sherlock grinned.

Gabe cleared his throat and they sat up straight, staring at him. "It's your turn, Sherlock," he said with a smirk. Sherlock nodded and, with a grimace, spun the bottle so violently that John wondered for a moment if it had somehow insulted the Holmes family. It spun several times before slowing down, stopping in front of... John. The group erupted in laughter and a few people wolf-whistled. John stared from the bottle to Sherlock, who was equally as wide-eyed. Sherlock shrugged, John tilted his head to the side, and they leaned towards each other.

When their lips touched, the first thing John noticed was how dry Sherlock's lips were. Then, as they tilted their heads to keep their noses from clashing and their lips slid on each other, John's eyes closed in content. Sherlock opened his mouth slightly and John reacted immediately, tracing Sherlock's lower lip with his tongue. A light moan escaped Sherlock, so soft that no one else could hear it. As the kiss deepened, John moved his hand to Sherlock's waist.

When they broke apart, no one said anything. John and Sherlock stared at each other, not moving except for their heaving chests as they caught their breath. Finally, after what seemed like hours, someone let out a low whistle and a girl (probably Molly) let out a nervous laugh.

John turned to face the crowd. "Okay, so who spins next?"

* * *

After another hour, Sherlock and John managed to escape the party and started to walk back to John's house to play Bioshock. Their silence was comfortable, but as soon as they left the house, John looked up at Sherlock.

"So, Gabe was cheating?" he asked. "Ruby must be heartbroken."

Sherlock smirked. "Yeah, the pictures I sent to her weren't very virtuous. Neither was the text I sent her, explaining what was going on between dear old Gabe and his new Martha." He snickered. "This means I get _sixty_ pounds. Fantastic."

They continued their walk home trading jokes, neither boy mentioning the kiss they could still feel on their lips.


End file.
